Chapter 3 How It Started

Aria’s POV

After I finished eating with my best friend and her family, we made our way to the living room while Matt disappeared into the family room to watch a basketball game. I took in the home details, soft cream curtains, stylish decor, and plants that weren’t fake. The place was cozy but elevated, just like Nia.

“Your house is beautiful, by the way,” I told her.

“Thank you, girl. I try,” she replied with a soft smile.

She plopped down on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her. Then came the look. The one that says... so are you gonna spill it or not look.

“So… are you ready?” she asked. “Or are you gonna make me wait?”

I sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions. “It’s a long story… but I have five days before the reunion, right? I guess we can start tonight.”

She clapped like a kid being handed a cupcake. “YES. Girl, give me everything.” She popped open a fresh bottle of red cranberry juice, poured us each a glass, and gave me a moment to breathe.

“Okay, girl. Here we go.”

Flashback – Monday: First Day of Classes

I woke up early and jumped in the shower, hoping the hot water would shake off the anxiety threatening to take me out before the semester even began. I tried to tame my wild curls into a messy bun and gave my skin a good layer of moisturizer, rubbing it in with purpose like I was shielding myself from the world.

I threw on my goto: jeans and an oversized T-shirt. Safe. Comfortable. Invisible, hopefully. I grabbed my bag stuffed with books and my laptop, plus my wristlet with my ID, keys, and emergency credit card. I was already mentally reviewing my class schedule as I headed toward the kitchen.

Just as I hit the last step, the smell of eggs and bacon hit me.

“¡Buenos días, Lucy!” I greeted warmly.

“Bueno, bebé,” Lucia replied. Then she gave me a once-over. “¿Qué llevas puesto (What are you wearing)?”

“¿Qué tiene de malo (What’s wrong with it)?” I asked, even though I already knew where this was going.

“Eres muy bonita. Tal vez pruebes un vestido este año,(You're very pretty maybe try a dress this year)” she said with a hopeful smile.

“Well, Lucy, I don’t have any dresses,” I replied, half laughing, half praying she’d drop it.

She didn’t. “No te preocupes. Te traeré algo de mi hija. Ustedes son del mismo tamaño. (Don't worry. I'll get you something from my daughter. You're about the same size.)”

I shook my head no. She smiled and said yes anyway.

“You will wear them.”

I sighed and grabbed the breakfast sandwich she plated for me. I took a bite at the counter, still chewing when Queen Bitch almighty strutted in.

Talia.

She strolled in like she was walking a runway, already mid-conversation on her phone, loud as hell.

I tried to shrink into myself, hoping she’d walk past without noticing me. Silly me.

“Girl, let me call you back,” she said, eyes locked on me. “There’s a fat pig in the kitchen stinking up the place.” She snickered and ended the call.

I stayed quiet, eyes on my food.

She turned to Lucia, annoyed. “Where’s my fruit, maid?”

Lucia calmly grabbed it from the fridge and placed it in front of her with some granola and yogurt on the side. Talia barely acknowledged it.

“Be faster next time, or you’ll be replaced,” she snapped.

Lucia turned away toward the sink and I heard her mutter under her breath, “Perra anoréxica. (Anorexic Bitch)”

I chuckled involuntarily.

Talia turned her venom back toward me. “Oh, Plushy, I forgot you were there, and that’s pretty hard considering your size.”

“Good morning, Talia,” I said quietly, standing up to leave.

She scoffed. “Damn, you practically inhaled that thing. You should slow down.”

I didn’t say a word. I just grabbed my bag and walked out the door before she could find another barb to throw.

My first class of the day was Financial Marketing 401, one of my last and final marketing courses before graduation. I was ready to be challenged, but I also knew this class came with a major final presentation. Pressure. Great.

Today and Wednesday, I also had Business Law and Statistics 401. Tuesdays and Thursdays were easier, just Human Resources and Fridays I had off. Finally, some breathing room. Maybe this was the semester I could get a job that didn’t interfere with my scholarship work-study program.

When I walked into the lecture hall, I immediately noticed it was smaller than usual. Intimate. Thirty students, tops. Great for learning. Terrible for hiding.

I slid into a seat toward the back and set up my laptop and phone, ready to take photos of the board if needed.

Then I heard someone clear their throat.

“Is this seat taken?”

I looked up… and my breath caught in my chest.

It was him.

Jalen.

In the flesh.

His voice. His face. His smile. My heart damn near betrayed me.

“Uh—no. It’s free,” I managed.

“Good thing. Hate sitting up front,” he said as he dropped into the chair next to me. He flashed me a smile that made my stomach twist, then offered his hand. “I’m Jalen.”

I was so thrown I forgot my own damn name. “Um… shit, I mean, I’m Aria.”

He chuckled. “Nice to meet you, Aria.”

I couldn’t tell if he recognized me or not. I mean, it had been a few days, but I was also hiding in the hallway, awkward, invisible. But here he was, talking to me like I wasn’t hus current girlfriends roommate.

“I know this class is gonna be a bitch,” he added. “But hopefully, we can get through it easily.”

I gave him a tight-lipped smile, still reeling.

Before I could respond, Professor Tate walked in and started setting up.

And just like that, he was sitting beside me… and my heart didn’t know whether to run or lean in.

Present Day

“So wait, you told me you met Jalen through that slut Talia,” Nia said, raising her brows.

“Um, no.” I gave her a look. “Remember, you didn't come to campus for a week because your mom got sick? You assumed I met him through Talia, but nah, this happened before all that.”

“Well, whatever,” she said, brushing it off. “Please continue.”

Flashback

We were seated in Professor Tate’s classroom, waiting for him to finish setting up. His TA moved around the room, handing out thick syllabi to those who showed up early.

When Professor Tate finally walked in, he glanced at his watch and said, “Welcome, future business entrepreneurs, to Financial Marketing 401.”

He launched into his intro spiel, rattling off grading expectations and participation requirements. I tried to listen, and I swear I did, but I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Jalen. Lord, that man smelled so damn good. Like expensive cologne, clean skin, and something primal. If I could bottle his sweat, I’d probably wear it like perfume.

“Now,” Professor Tate continued, “everyone, look to your right. If you’re on the end of the row, look the opposite direction of the wall. If no one’s beside you, come see me after class. If someone is, then congratulations, that’s your marketing partner for the semester.”

I turned.

And there he was.

Jalen.

Sitting right next to me.

I think my heart paused for a solid two seconds. His eyes met mine, and a slow, cocky grin stretched across his face. “Looks like we’re stuck together,” he said. “I hope you’re smart, miss, ’cause I take school seriously.”

I gave a nervous chuckle. “I do my best.”

He pulled out his phone and held it toward me. “Cool. Put your number in.”

I did, hands a little shaky as I typed. He called me right then and there, and I felt my phone buzz in my purse.

“Now you got me on lock,” he said smoothly. “Let’s set up some meeting times. See what days work for us?”

I nodded, trying to hide the grin creeping up my face. “Yeah, maybe Tuesdays or Thursdays will work. Let’s see what our other classes look like first.”

Tate kept talking in the background, but I barely heard him. My brain was still catching up.

After class ended, I had to do a quick check-in at the library for my work-study shift assignment. I was also hoping to see if they had any regular job openings because I was trying to stack this paper and multitask wherever I could.

I walked over to my next class: Business Law.

As usual, I picked a seat in the back, easy to dip in and out without being noticed. This class was packed like sardines. Three times the number of students than last class.

As I pulled out my notebook, someone slid into the seat beside me.

“Hey again.”

I turned and blinked. It was him.

Jalen. Again.

“Oh wow, you’re in this class too?” I said, trying not to sound like a giddy schoolgirl.

He chuckled. “Yeah, looks like we’re on the same grind. We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other.”

Professor Morristown stormed in like a hurricane, slamming his briefcase onto the desk.

And just like that, class began, and so did the beginning of the hardest damn course of the semester.